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November 13, 2002

Blogs Are Soon to Be Dead

The Times Dispatch has sounded the death knell for blogs – they actually ran an article on them. For any cutting edge meme, coverage by the TD is the surest sign of staleness. Then again, the only local coverage was for Short Pump stalwart Biber Fan. I hope that the coverage won't quash John's insights on Baroque music, Macintoshes and fine vittles. For my part, I shall plod along until the carrion feeders of cyber culture catch up with me.

Caritas on My Corner

It's autumn and Caritas has started its daily pickup of homeless at the church across the street. They take a couple of chartered GRTC buses and transport people to shelters at suburban chuches. At the churches, they get dinner and a bed, then breakfast the next morning. Another chartered bus returns them to downtown.

Is the neighborhood a mess? No. In fact, on Halloween, as they were queuing up to get on the bus, one of the men left a food wrapper on the sidewalk. Another one chastised him and picked it up. He looked at me across the street and asked if I had a trash can. I took the trash from him.

Interestingly, there's at least on fellow who parks his car on my block. Even if the gentleman has a car to get around, he probably doesn't want to sleep in it. Parking is suddenly less plentiful than it was. However, most of the cars next to my house are clunkers that stay there long after the Caritas bus has left in the morning.

Geek Note

If you do a Google search for "Richmond Caritas", you get many of the churches that host for Caritas, you do not get the organization's website. Why? Because caritasshelter.org is basically a Flash app with a couple of paragraphs of text under it. Text matters on the Internet people – remember that. Pro-bono web work aside, they're a fine organization - if you get a chance to send a donation to them, do so.

Poor Yellow Bird

The Rock, the charming parakeet I adopted from Pat, met his end the Wednesday before Halloween. As I was baking cookies, I heard a terrible racket from the living room, followed by pitiable squawking. I hurried to the living room to find the wee peeper laying legs–up on the floor of his cage, breathing his last. He was entertaining company and will be missed.

© 2002 dsun AT noprizes DOT net